


One Werewolf, One Hunter, One Human

by aerowyn



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Feels, Frottage, M/M, Multi, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-01-07
Packaged: 2018-03-06 12:01:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3133733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aerowyn/pseuds/aerowyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has his time with Chris and Derek, those moments that developed over years of saving each other’s lives and almost dying together. Now Chris is always their third, the one they go off and hunt things down with. One werewolf, one hunter, one human.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Werewolf, One Hunter, One Human

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cousin Shelley (CousinShelley)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CousinShelley/gifts).



> This was really fun to write and I hope you enjoy it, darling!

“Stiles, look out!”

Stiles ducks as he turns around, hitting the wendigo in the legs with his bat. The aluminum vibrates in his hands, reverbing up his arms. It hurts like hell, but the wendigo they’ve been chasing for over a week falls over backward. Wolf!Derek is there behind him and jumps on the wendigo’s chest, growling down at him to hold him still.

Chris runs up behind Stiles as he raises back up, shaking out his sore arms. Stiles has a gash on his left arm and on his right calf, but they aren’t too deep and don’t really hurt. He’s had much worse. 

Chris’ face is covered in blood, but since he isn’t dead, Stiles figures it’s the blood of the other wendigo he’d gone off to take care of a few minutes ago. 

Axe in hand, Chris walks over to the wendigo shaking under Wolf!Derek’s gaze. The blood from the other wendigo drips onto this one’s face as he whimpers in terror. “Please, don’t kill me.” 

Chris scoffs at him. “I’m sure something very similar came out of the mouths of the six families you and your brother slaughtered. Please forgive me if I don’t find your plea sympathetic.” Chris swings his axe, chopping off the wendigo’s head. 

Stiles watches it roll a few inches away from the body. He should be more disturbed by a severed head, but really, he’s seen and done much worse to the evil creatures in Beacon Hills, so a silly little severed head is nothing. 

Wolf!Derek hops off the wendigo’s chest and shakes his fur, blood flinging in every direction. 

“Oh come on, Derek. I already have enough blood on me. I don’t need any more.” Stiles brushes off his clothes. When he just smears more blood into his flannel shirt, he realizes it’s a lost cause. At least he was wearing one of his old ones. 

Chris laughs at Stiles, walking over to throw an arm around his shoulder. “I really don’t know why you bother caring about cleanliness right now, Stiles. It doesn’t seem like it should matter.” 

Chris pulls lighter fluid out of the bag Stiles brought with him, drenching the wendigo. Chris lights and drops a match on the wendigo, the flesh igniting. Stiles takes a step back from the flames, feeling the adrenaline in his system, his heart a constant staccato in his ears. They’ve been chasing these guys for weeks and it hasn’t quite registered that it’s over. It’s making him restless, like there are thousands of insects under his skin trying to claw their way out. 

Derek walks over to Stiles and Chris once he transforms back to human legs. “Did you get the other one, Chris?” 

“Oh, right, no need to thank me, Derek, even though that wendigo was about to rip your head off before I hit him. I didn’t mind at all.” Stiles scoffs and turns around, heading back towards where he thinks he dropped his phone when he ran into the clearing. 

Derek rolls his eyes. “I had it under control, but I appreciate it anyway.” 

Stiles whirls around to face Derek, exacerbated, seeing the neutral expression on his face in the flickering light from the flames. His heart rate rises impossibly higher, his skin flushing with anger. “That’s bullshit, Derek, and you know it. There were two wendigos on top of you and they both had their teeth at your neck. If Chris and I hadn’t come in and separated them, they would have eaten you. _Eaten you dead_.” Stiles enunciates each word with a frantic wave of his hands. 

Spelling it out for Derek is starting to make the situation sink in. They could have died. He and Derek and Chris. They were closer than they’ve been in a long time. And it doesn’t seem to be bothering either of them. But Stiles feels like he’s about to lose his mind. His anger is the only thing keeping him from a panic attack. 

Derek walks up to Stiles and grabs his hand, stopping the motion. “Calm down, Stiles. I’m fine.” He puts Stiles’ hand on his chest. “I’m safe.” 

Stiles feels Derek’s heart beating under his hand and it matches his own. Fast, erratic. Full of life. He can feel Chris close behind him, the heat from the fire interrupted by his presence. 

Stiles surges forward, crushing his lips against Derek’s. Derek grabs Stiles’ head, making the kiss harder, punishing. Stiles relishes the slight pain, the feeling of their lips and teeth pushing against each other as their tongues vie for control. 

Stiles feels Chris grab his hips, fitting himself against Stiles’ back and nipping along the back of Stiles’ neck. Stiles needs this, needs to feel Derek and Chris’ heat, feel the blood pumping through all their veins, reminding him that they’ve made it out alive, that they’ve, against all odds, managed to survive once again. 

Chris pulls Stiles’ flannel shirt off, pulling his arms off of Derek’s neck. Derek runs his fingers up Stiles’ chest, pulling back from their kiss as he pulls off Stiles’ t-shirt. Stiles hisses as the fabric pulls at his cut, but he’ll worry about that later. He can’t think about anything but feeling as much of Derek and Chris as possible. 

Chris pulls Stiles back as soon as the shirt’s over his head. Stiles turns his head and kisses Chris, feeling his bare chest against his back. He must have pulled off his clothes before he joined Stiles and Derek, and the thought makes Stiles groan into the kiss. 

Stiles feels Derek pulling at the button of his jeans, gasping as the cool night air hits his flushed erection even through the fabric. Derek mouths at Stiles’ cock through his boxer briefs, Stiles moaning as he pulls away from Chris’ mouth. Chris latches on to the area below Stiles’ ear, making him moan louder at the dual contact. 

“Derek, please.” Stiles begs, arm around Chris’ head as he leans into the lips on his neck. After one final lick, Derek finally pulls Stiles’ pants and underwear down and around his ankles. 

Stiles uses his free hand to grab Derek’s hair, guiding him where he wants him. Derek licks along Stiles’ cock, making Stiles shiver against Chris’ chest. He pulls Chris back to his lips, crushing their mouths together and pulling Chris’ body flush against him. He can feel Chris’ hard cock against his ass, the tiny movements he makes as he attacks Stiles’ mouth. 

Stiles gasps as Derek swallows him, nose resting against the curls of Stiles’ groin. Stiles tightens his hand in Derek’s hair and tries not to thrust forward. Stiles pulls away from Chris, gasping for air as Derek starts moving on his cock. He feels Derek’s hand move from his hip back to Chris, rocking Chris’ hips into Stiles. Stiles moans as it rubs Chris’ cock along his crack and rocks him back into Derek’s mouth. Derek pulls back as he pushes slightly at Chris, creating a delicious drag of Chris’ cock against Stiles’ opening. 

Stiles moans at the dual sensations, feeling both grounded and as if he might crawl out of his own skin. Chris kisses along Stiles’ neck and spine as he thrusts against Stiles’ ass, slide aided by the perspiration between them. 

Derek moves his hand up Stiles’ side, flicking his nipples as he makes his way up his body to his mouth. Stiles closes his mouth around Derek’s fingers, tasting the salt and a bit of earthiness on his skin. Stiles swirls his tongue around Derek’s finger and Derek mimics his actions on Stiles’ cock. Stiles bites slightly at the tip of Derek’s finger, shuddering as Derek follows suit. Sucking Derek’s fingers back in, Stiles clutches Chris’ hips, moving his hips in small motions, matching Derek and Chris’ movements. 

He’s covered in warmth, the feel of bare skin against him calming him down deep inside while invigorating his soul. They’re all there and alive, full of passion and power. 

Derek pulls his fingers out of Stiles’ mouth, Stiles whining slightly at the loss. Chris closes the gap between their lips, kissing Stiles as Derek drags his wet fingers down Stiles’ body. Stiles jerks against Chris’ hip and gasps into his mouth as Derek slowly reaches between Stiles’ legs, finger brushing over his opening. 

Stiles is overwhelmed by all the sensations, feeling his orgasm building inside of him. Every time he thrusts back, Chris’ cock slides against his ass and Derek sucks as his cock is pulled out of Derek’s mouth. When he thrusts forward, he’s plunged back into the delicious heat of Derek’s mouth as he slides his finger along Stiles’ perineum to his opening, rubbing the length of Chris’ cock as it moves against Stiles’ ass. It’s torture, a torture he never wants to end. 

“Chris, Derek, fuck. I’m so close.” Stiles gasps as he grabs Chris’ neck, holding himself up as he feels his knees starting to quiver. 

“Let go, Stiles. We got you,” Chris whispers in his ear, licking and nipping at the lobe. 

Stiles groans as he thrusts one more time, scratching at Chris’ neck and grasping Derek’s hair as he empties himself down Derek’s throat. Stiles feels Derek growl slightly as he swallows around his cock, gently pushing Derek off when he gets too sensitive. 

Derek stands up and kisses Stiles. Stiles moans at the taste of himself on Derek’s tongue as Derek pulls him and Chris flush. Stiles leans his weight against Chris as Derek moves to kiss Chris over Stiles’ shoulder, feeling safe trapped between their bodies. Chris starts thrusting against his back as Derek rubs against his hip, both rocking in tandem, continuing to kiss each other as Stiles comes down from his orgasm. Stiles feels Chris still and moan first, the warmth of Chris’ come spreading along Stiles’ back. Derek growls and speeds up his thrusts, biting on Stiles neck with human teeth as he comes across their chests. 

Stiles smiles as they stand together, breathing in sync as they calm, Derek and Chris’ strong arms wrapped around him like a blanket. 

It’s in these moments that Stiles can let the anxiety go, when he feels safe and sated and loved, feels like nothing can ever get them as long as they fight together. Derek slowly pulls back and looks into Stiles’ eyes before touching his forehead to Stiles’. Chris pulls away from their embrace with kiss to Stiles’ neck and hand through the hairs at the nape of Derek’s neck. 

Chris always gives them a moment alone, knowing when he’s needed in the post-mission haze and when they need a private moment after all the frenzy’s gone. Derek pulls back slowly and kisses Stiles on the forehead, lips lingering as takes a deep breath. “You smell less anxious now,” Derek murmurs against Stiles’ forehead. He kisses his way across Stiles’ face, before nosing at his ear. “You also smell like come and blood, but still less anxious.” 

Stiles laughs as he hugs Derek one last time before pulling apart to look at him. “Yeah, well, that’s partially your fault, you animal.” 

“I think Chris had a little something to do with the smell, too.” Derek smiles at him, kissing his lips. Stiles leans into the kiss, relishing in how calm he feels. 

Stiles turns around to look for his shirt as he pulls up his pants. He sees Chris off to the side, already redressed and throwing dirt on the lingering flames from the fire. “Hey Chris, where’d you throw my flannel shirt?” 

Chris walks over and grabs Stiles’ flannel off the ground, handing it to him. Stiles smiles as he takes it. “Thanks, man.” 

Stiles uses his flannel to wipe the come off his front and back as best he can. It isn’t the best clean up job, but it’s not like he was that clean before they started. 

Stiles grabs his t-shirt from the ground at his feet, brushing off the stray leaves before he pulls it over his head. 

Chris smiles as he turns around, walking to grab his axe beside the now extinguished fire. “Ok, boys, I’m out of here.” 

“See you soon, Chris. And thanks. For everything,” Derek says, coming to stand beside Stiles, once again fully clothed.

Chris throws the axe onto his shoulder, smiling at both of them. “Yeah. You, too.” He turns and starts walking back to the road. “See you on Tuesday at Allison and Isaac’s. Remember, it’s your turn to bring the dessert, Stiles.” 

Stiles smiles as he grabs Derek’s hand, walking them both toward the tree where he thinks his phone fell. “I know. Like Isaac would let me forget.” 

Stiles hears Chris walking away as he bends down, rummaging his hands through the leaves. When his hand grasps his phone, he raises up in triumph. “Ahha! I found it!” 

Derek grins as he pulls Stiles close, kissing him softly before following Chris out of the woods. Stiles falls in step beside Derek, feeling warm and content. 

The older he gets, the more dangerous the creatures seem to get that find their way to Beacon Hills. Or maybe it’s just that he has more at stake now. They all do. 

He has a pack, a great pack that finally learned how to work as a pack instead of a group of untrained idiots. He has his dad, still ornery as ever about all of it but who’s first in line at pack dinners. 

He has his time with Chris and Derek, those moments that developed over years of saving each other’s lives and almost dying together. Chris has saved his and Derek’s asses more than once and has become so integral to the pack that it’s hard for Stiles to imagine what it was like before, before Chris lost his wife and father and figured out that not all the monsters he’d grown up hunting were his enemies. Now he’s always their third, the one they go off and hunt things down with. One werewolf, one hunter, one human. 

They’ve never really defined what they are, never really talk about it much, just always fall together after particularly hard missions when they all need reminding that they’re alive and breathing. 

And then there’s Derek, his better half, love of his life, and bane of his existence. Derek isn’t the hard, gruff person he used to be, has let a lot of the guilt and blame go as their pack got bigger and Scott got surer as his Alpha. But they still snipe at each other and fight more than most couples. But Stiles wouldn’t have it any other way. Would be so bored any other way.

“Hey, what’s with the face? Where’d you go?” Derek pulls Stiles closer to him, rubbing his finger along Stiles’ palm as they walk. 

Stiles smiles at Derek. “Just thinking about how lucky we are. To be alive and to have our pack. And each other.”

Derek nods. “You are lucky to have me.” 

Stiles swats at Derek with his free hand. “Ass. I was trying to be sincere.”

Derek laughs. “So was I.” Derek pulls Stiles to him, both still chuckling as their lips meet. 

Stiles pulls back and continues their way through the woods. “Come on. Let’s go home.”


End file.
